Mythology 101

by Jody Lynn Nye

  Marcy nodded her comprehension. “Keith, I think Carl is planning to do something horrible. He wrote an article, a lot of unsubstantiated rumors.…”

  Keith nodded. “I know someone did. They thought it was me.” Diane, puzzled, looked from one to the other but didn’t interrupt.

  “Well, it was Carl! There are going to be more. Lots more. Says he’s got evidence to support his case. If it wasn’t about family, you might almost call it an exposé.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “He’s got an investigative reporter coming, Keith. Steven Arnold. You’ve heard of him?”

  “Yes, I have! Have you told the family?”

  “You must have some strange family,” Diane commented to Marcy. “This Carl your cousin?” They both looked at her. “Sorry. Just an impression.”

  “I can’t. They wouldn’t believe me.” Marcy sounded desperate.

  “Well, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. And Carl, too,” Keith promised with a glint in his eye. “I’ll upset all of his plans.”

  O O O

  “Good evening, Keith Doyle,” Holl said quietly from the doorway.

  Keith looked up from his books and beckoned the young elf into the room. “Hi! I’m glad to see you. You weren’t home last time I dropped in.”

  “No. We have business to straighten out.” His manner was stiff and strained, and Keith felt instantly uncomfortable.

  “May I offer you something to drink?” he asked formally, gesturing Holl to a chair.

  “No, thank you,” just as formally.

  “Holl, you can’t honestly believe that I’d do anything.…”

  The elf held up a hand. “I know what I believe, but I must side with my folk. No other way would I be allowed to come here.” He brought out a handful of papers from his jacket pocket. “We have work to do.”

  Keith struggled to keep his voice level and reasonable. “We have a problem. There are a lot of people we promised merchandise to, they’re going to get upset if we don’t deliver.”

  “They are only in contact with you. It doesn’t concern us directly. I have brought these papers by to do you a favor, as it’s your name on them.”

  He tried again. “Marcy stopped me today. She told me that Carl was working on exposing the village.”

  “Do you wish me to carry this tale back, so the pressure will be taken from your back?” Holl asked angrily. “Do you have any proof?”

  “There’s no pressure on my back,” Keith shouted, “except the IRS and a bunch of short-sighted short people!”

  “Do you imagine that is funny?” Holl demanded.

  “Look, I wanted you to come by today so I could give you the proof.”

  “If you could do that,” Holl said, hope brimming in his eyes, “you’d restore their faith. How?”

  “I’ve got a plan.” Keith pricked up his ears. “Carl’s going to stop by. We’ll let him hang himself. You hide in there.” He pointed to his closet.

  “Not for you or any other Big—”

  “Shh! I hear—”

  Holl promptly interrupted him. “I want to hear more—”

  “Shh!” He swept Holl up and shoved him into the closet. The next second, as he pushed the double doors shut, there was a rap on the door. Keith swung it open. Carl strode in, suspiciously looking this way and that. Keith wondered if he was looking for contraband legends.

  “Yo, Carl,” he said, running a hand through his hair and hoping Holl hadn’t left any recognizable possessions in the room.

  “Hello, Doyle,” Carl said, eyeing him with amusement. “You left me a note. You say you’ve got something for me?”

  “Started any good rumors lately?” Keith asked, with his best village idiot expression.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” Carl replied smugly. “Thanks for bringing out the Hollow Tree stuff, Doyle. The best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “Like it, huh?”

  “Yep. Just the sort of thing successful news articles are made of. Proof.”

  “So you DID do those articles I read, huh?” Keith asked, his voice full of surprise and admiration.

  “Yeah,” Carl admitted proudly. “And there’ll be more. I called Steve Arnold, the investigative reporter from the paper, to come and interview me on Friday about legends and stuff.”

  There was a gasp from the closet. Keith’s smile widened. There was his proof, right from the horse’s mouth.

  “I’d sure like to come and hear what you have to say to the guy,” Keith gloated, rubbing his hands together. “You were certainly around there a long time.”

  Carl was clearly preening. “I figure I know enough. I tried to get into the other part of their complex twice without their knowing, once through the classroom and once through the wall but I muffed it.” He gave a shamefaced little laugh. “I nearly blew myself up with a couple of M-80’s. That wall must be really strong. They have got to have a really powerful mechanism. I bet the construction industry would like to know about it.” He eyed Keith. “If you helped me find out, I’ll cut you in for ten percent of my profits. I’d get you into the article, too.”

  “Hey, thanks. I’ve always wanted to have my name in the papers.”

  “No problem. It’s a piece of cake. Those elves are going to make me a lot of money. And they don’t even know it. They’re so dumb. Every time they wander around town and someone sees ’em I can sell another story to the papers. No wonder fairies are extinct.”

  Behind Keith, the doors gave a convulsive shove. Keith threw himself backwards, dislodging Holl who, judging by the sounds, sat down backwards on Keith’s boots. There was some muffled swearing, and Holl started pounding on the doors from the inside. “Stop it,” he hissed.

  Carl blinked at the closet Keith was guarding. “Is someone in there?”

  “Yes,” said Keith, thinking quickly. “It’s my girl, Diane, and um, we were interrupted.… So if you wouldn’t mind?” He gestured toward the hall. “You know, nice talking to you and all.”

  Carl smirked. “Try a rubber band on the door knob next time, Keith. This being subtle stuff just gets you in trouble. See you on the front page.”

  “Whew!” Keith turned the lock and opened the closet. A furious Holl sprang out into the room and reached for the door.

  “We’ll get him!” he vowed, starting after Carl. “It was him all the time. I’ll take care of him, the traitor! I’ll make him stink!”

  “No, you won’t,” Keith cautioned, hauling him back. “That’ll blow everything. He wants you to be seen. It’ll give credence to his newspaper stories. If that happens, it’ll never stop. Help me, and we’ll destroy his credibility.”

  Holl regarded him with shame. “You knew, Keith Doyle. Why didn’t I voice my trust in you, as I have before? I knew you were honest. On behalf of myself and my folk, I apologize.”

  “Save it,” Keith said flippantly. “I might need a real apology someday.”

  There was a cautious tap at the door. “Come in,” Keith called out without thinking. Pat pushed in.

  “Yo. Oh hi, kid. I met Carl in the hallway. He said he was just by here. Where’s the girl?”

  “Um, she went home,” Keith babbled out.

  “Oh. Minute-man, huh? You know, Carl is starting to sound just like you,” Pat told him, putting his books on the floor and stretching out full length on the bed. “Legends and fairy tales. Too bad he doesn’t like you. You could babble at each other, and leave me in peace. Giving me all this razzmatazz about legendary elves. In fact, he claims the campus is crawling with the little suckers.”

  “Do tell,” Holl inquired blandly.

  There was something about the way the boy spoke that made Pat really look at him. Something was different about him than the last time the dark-haired student had seen him. New haircut? No. He wasn’t wearing a hat now, so you could see his ears. Boy, what big ears the kid had…! “Those ears!” Pat gasped, sitting up. “Doyle, what on earth? I’ve been thinking all this time that your nephew here
…”

  “Holl,” said Holl.

  “… Yeah, Holl, is just a kid with a Trek complex, but you’re one of ’em, aren’t you?” he asked, taking in Holl’s appearance carefully for the first time. “Carl’s right. You’re not a kid at all.” Pat got up and looked closely at the side of Holl’s head, tugging on the point of one ear.

  “Ouch,” Holl said distinctly. “They’re attached, you know.”

  “They’re real,” Pat breathed. “God damn.”

  “Yup,” Keith told him. “Holl’s one of the ‘legendary elves’ Carl was writing about. At least I call ’em elves,” he finished doubtfully. “Can’t seem to get any confirmation from them on a scientific classification.”

  “It’s all empirical anyhow,” Holl said casually.

  “Wow,” sighed Pat, sitting down on the coffee table. “I suppose he isn’t really your nephew after all.”

  “Nope,” Keith said regretfully.

  “Fear not. We’re most likely distant kin,” Holl assured him. “Ten thousand research books can’t be all wrong.”

  “Hey, great,” Keith crowed, diving for pen and notepad. “Can I quote you on that?”

  “How’s it feel?” Pat wanted to know.

  “Never a problem to me,” said Holl. “I was born normal, same as you. Oh, no,” he held up his hands, palms out, seeing that Pat was misinterpreting his words. “Not an oversized babe like yourself. A normal, healthy squaller that drinks milk and pulls hair.”

  “Keith,” Pat said faintly, “I take back almost everything I ever said about you.”

  “Carl is causing Holl and his family a lot of trouble.”

  “Who’s his family?” Pat looked at him in amazement. “You mean the stuff with the investigative reporter? And the Inter-Hall Council?”

  “They live in the basement of the library. For more than forty years now,” Keith added. “Their village chief is the reason I passed Sociology last semester.”

  “Jeezus!”

  Holl nodded. “It’s not easy finding housing for eighty. We must be able to escape notice.”

  Pat eyed Keith. “So what’s your role in all this?”

  “I went into business to raise money so they could buy a place to live.”

  “You’re the ones he was going to teach to fish.”

  Holl bowed to Pat. “I understand we owe the suggestion to you. It’s a good one, and perhaps Keith Doyle would never have come to it himself.”

  “Much obliged. You know,” Pat said thoughtfully, “if Carl had told you what was going on in the beginning, you would never have come out in favor of tearing the library down.”

  “That’s just one score of many we need to settle with him,” Holl said seriously. “You see how you react to encountering me, and Keith trusts you. I’ve no wish to be the object of gapers.”

  Pat was still overwhelmed. “After living with Keith for two years, I should be better prepared to deal with you guys. Although this is the first time he’s actually brought home a research project. What can I do to help?”

  “We’re planning,” Keith said. “But now that I think of it, you could help out if you want to. I’m happy that I can ask you openly. Meantime, there’s a few more people we ought to get involved with this. What we need to do is to call a council of war.” They sat down to conspire.

  O O O

  “Why’d we have to meet down here?” Teri said, hugging herself and looking around nervously at the steam tunnel. “Brr! I got dirt on my new toreador pants coming down that ladder. I bet it’s all grease. I’ll never get it out.”

  “Shh!” Barry hissed. “These tunnels echo. We had beer parties down here my freshman year.”

  “Mine, too,” Pat said. He was still watching Holl and the other Little Folk with open fascination. “That was normal. This is freaky.”

  The elves stood away from the humans in a knot under the light of a hanging bulb. Maura, Holl and Keith conversed quietly with the other students near the entrance. Marcy and Enoch stayed together off on the side between the two groups.

  “May ve know vhy ve are assembled in this place?” the Elf Master requested in a quiet voice.

  “Just a moment,” Keith said. “Are we all here?”

  “Two more coming,” Lee’s voice said from above them. They all looked up, expecting to see the big student backing down the ladder, but to everyone’s surprise, including Keith’s, a small elderly lady descended first.

  “Mrs. Hempert!” Keith exclaimed, his sibilants echoing in the lonely hall. Lee came down next, grinning.

  “She didn’t want to be left out.”

  “But naturally,” Ludmilla said, smiling at Keith. She walked over to Marcy, kissed her on the cheek, and gathered her protectively under her arm. “Hello, my dear.”

  Keith gestured to them all, gathering them closer. “Here’s the problem,” he said. “The elf village is about to have its cover blown,” he had to hold his hands up to silence comment. “But not by me, or anything I’m doing. You’ll notice that Carl isn’t here. He’s the one causing all the trouble. Just recently, he published a few articles,” Keith nodded to Catra, who held up a folder of news clippings from her archives.

  “I heard him confess it,” Holl called out.

  The murmuring grew louder. Keith raised his voice just a little to be heard over it. “And on Friday, he’s going to talk to a reporter whose job is to ferret out facts and make a big deal about them. They call him an exposé writer.”

  There was a lot of muttering as the two groups, still separate, mulled over the information. Keith waited a moment for them to digest it, and then went on. “Now, there’s been a lot of hard feelings lately, with everybody suspecting everybody else. The only way that we can fix that is with cooperation. In fact, that just happens to be the only way we can get Carl to back off.”

  “What can we do?” Teri asked, concern in her eyes.

  “I thought, between the bunch of us, we could come up with a creative way to queer it with this reporter. It’s important to me to make it go wrong for him.”

  “I intend to help,” Ludmilla said immediately. “I know it is important. You haf but to ask me.”

  “Me, too,” Lee told him, and turned to the others, unconsciously echoing Holl. “I apologize for Carl on behalf of my species.”

  From the isolated group of elves, the Master stood forth. “It is our species, too,” he said. He took Ludmilla’s hand and bowed over it. “Danke shoen, mine old friend.”

  She put her other hand on top of his. “It is gut to see you again.”

  “They talk alike,” Teri said, amused.

  “I think we should all have a chance to help,” Barry said, making the accord unanimous. The elves drew closer, mixing again with their friends. The girls hugged Teri and Marcy, and the men all shook hands.

  “There is a time limit, you realize,” Holl said. “We don’t have as much time as we’d hoped, and we can’t move while there is a watch out for us.”

  “Move?” “Where?” Everyone asked at once.

  “To a place. Keith knows.”

  Keith realized he did. “You bought the farmstead! I was really worried when I saw the “Sold” sign. So that’s where that money went.”

  The elves were visibly ashamed. “Of all folk, it is you we should have trusted,” Candlepat put an appealing hand on his arm. He smiled down at her.

  “You would have found out sooner or later,” Holl put in apologetically. “I tried to call you after the sale was agreed, but you were in transit. After that, I was prevented from meeting with you.”

  “I took ’em there the other day,” Lee grunted approvingly. “Nice choice. Needs work, though. I’m going to help out, too. If you don’t mind, that is. It’s all ‘Keith Doyle this’ and ‘Keith Doyle that’ to them.” He made a face, drawing his voice up into a falsetto.

  “I’m sorry for the things I thought about you, Keith Doyle,” Marm said, slapping him on the back, reaching high enough to hit between Keith’s
shoulder blades. “I’ll pass it to the others to begin production once again. We have commitments to meet.” There was a wholehearted murmur of agreement.

  “Good,” Keith said. “Now, here’s what I have in mind. A few little surprises, that’s all.”

  O O O

  On the way back to campus, Holl looked up the street, and blanched. “Uh-oh.” He stuck his hand into Keith’s.

  Keith looked down in surprise. “What’s this?” he asked playfully. “I thought you had a thing for Maura.”

  “There’s a security officer down there, you had-a-thing,” Holl growled out of the side of his mouth. “At least in this twilight he can’t see me clearly. Now escort me safely across the street, Uncle Keith.”

  “Naturally, Holl, my dear boy,” Keith said indulgently. “Look both ways.”

  “We do,” Holl muttered in an undertone. “I look uncomfortable, and you look like a fool. As usual.”

  ***

  Chapter 36

  As promised, the elves had geared up to full production again, and reported to Keith through Marcy that they would have all orders filled within the week. Keith was pleased, because he was able to reply to a mayday call from Ms. Voordman, pleading for her shipment. “It’s gift season, Keith. If I wait too long I’ll miss the window.”

  “I’ll get it to you today, Ms. Voordman,” Keith vowed, smiling at Diane who disappeared into the back room to put away her purse. Ms. Voordman was his best customer, and he felt bad about letting her down.

  “And by the way, Keith, there was a man in here last week looking at your merchandise. I would call him a snappy dresser. He made a fuss about union labels.” Ms. Voordman’s eyes grew cold, and Keith swallowed, suspecting that Lewandowski hadn’t forgotten about him. “He didn’t say anything openly, or I would have gotten a restraining order, but he suggested if I kept buying non-union goods I might have a fire.”

  “What?” Keith squawked.

  “Oh, I’ve heard it before, but this is the first time at Country Crafts. He particularly wanted me to pass it on to you.”

  Keith nodded, his mouth in a grim set. “Don’t you worry, Ms. Voordman. I’ll do something about it.” He turned and strode purposefully toward the door.